


O-Negative

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Vampires, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Too bad Jim’s current ailment can’t be sated with copper.





	O-Negative

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The condition is relatively new to Starfleet’s database, able to be contracted on a number of ally planets, not lethal if treated properly, and, thus far, unable to be cured. When Jim’s test results first came back, he thought it was a death sentence—not of his life, but his career. 

He hadn’t counted on underlings like Hikaru Sulu willing to discreetly suffer for him. Sulu’s been an excellent pilot and an exemplary officer. He’s invaluable to the Enterprise. He doesn’t deserve to be held down in sickbay, crushed against Jim’s chest, and ravaged like an animal. 

Jim tries not to do that. He _tries_. He turns Sulu around, because he can’t face the compassion in those dark eyes. He pulls Sulu’s back flush against his front, and he trails his fangs across the lean lines of Sulu’s neck. He wants to bite _everywhere_, to scrape his pointed nails over Sulu’s flesh and make the blood rise to the surface. But he restrains himself. He stays at the spot where Bones applied the anesthetic, ignoring its bitter taste. He bites down and shivers at Sulu’s gasping breath. Bones had said that it would still hurt. Sulu said he’d do it anyway.

Jim hates himself for causing the little tremours in Sulu’s well-built body. But the ravenous part of him takes over, making it hard to care. His eyes flicker over Sulu’s shoulder, piercing across the room.

Spock stands there, rigid and in control, hands behind his back. Bones has retreated to his office to give them some semblance of privacy, but Jim told Spock to stay. He knows his own eyes are glowing red, slicing into his first officer with a feral intensity that would have any other man backing down. Jim _wants him_ so desperately. 

Jim opens his lips wide across Sulu’s soft skin, but it’s Spock’s blood he’s thinking of. He knows that it’s green. He knows it can’t sustain him. Bones told him it wouldn’t work—the human half of Spock isn’t strong enough; his biology’s too _Vulcan_. Jim can only feed on his own kind. But that feels so _wrong_, because this feeding is bizarrely _intimate_, and Jim shouldn’t be sharing it with anyone else. He doesn’t care if he needs to drink another’s blood to live. He wants to push Spock down and cover him in shallow bites meant for pure _pleasure_—he knows he could make Spock’s toes curl. He knows he could make it as delectable for Spock as it would be for him. Bones told him otherwise. Jim’s arms tighten possessively around Sulu’s middle, but he’s thinking only of Spock. 

Sulu’s iron-based blood is delicious. Jim’s jaw clamps and constricts, crunching deeper into Sulu’s body—Sulu arches up and shudders, not _quite_ crying out, but panting. Jim promised he’d pull out any time that Sulu wanted, though Sulu insisted he have his fill. Sulu was so good to volunteer—Jim owes him for that. Jim values him. Jim can smell the distinct aroma that is _Spock_, and his _t’hy’la’s_ mind brushes against his own. He asks it for forgiveness. He tells it how hungry Spock makes him. Sulu’s a handsome man, but there’s no one aboard, no one in the galaxy, as attractive to Jim as Spock. He realizes that his hands are roaming Sulu’s body, squeezing across his toned pecs and grinding into his crotch. It’s grossly inappropriate. Jim makes himself stop.

Bones’ voice comes over the intercom: _“Jim, that’s enough.”_

A part of him hates to withdraw, the rest of him wants to let go anyway so he can fill his mouth with Spock instead. He wrenches out of Sulu’s neck and steps back, arms no longer holding onto Sulu. Sulu slumps forward and catches the nearest medical bed. He uses it to hold himself up. He’s flushed and breathing hard, and when he turns enough, Jim can see that his pants are tented. 

Jim licks his lips, the blood still in his mouth. He has to force his voice steady when he says, “Thank you, Lieutenant. ...Please report to Dr. McCoy.”

Sulu weakly nods. He takes another minute to steady himself, then slowly makes his way over to Bones’ private office. Jim is left alone with his partner. He _knows_ he can’t bite Spock. 

He storms across the isle anyway and smashes his mouth against Spock’s lips. Spock absorbs the impact, hands loosely falling to Jim’s sides. Jim pries Spock’s mouth open with his tongue and fills it with the remnants of Sulu’s blood, then licks that sweet juice off Spock’s walls. It was only _food_, just sustenance, but he feels all riled up. His hands wrap around Spock’s body, ducking to all the places he shouldn’t have touched on Sulu. He can touch Spock. Spock’s _his_.

Spock turns his head away, and Jim continues his greedy kisses down Spock’s throat. Spock quietly asks, “Are you satisfied, Captain?”

Jim doesn’t answer. His stomach is, but the rest of him isn’t. He wraps his fingers around Spock’s wrist. 

He drags Spock down with him onto the nearest examination bed, and he takes everything he can.


End file.
